


Resorting to Revolution

by Clara_sauce_wald



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Madness, Multi, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_sauce_wald/pseuds/Clara_sauce_wald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara and the Doctor visit a corrupt ship resort in one of the most infamous systems in the universe. Once the Doctor is taken hostage by the Empress, Clara is left alone to lead the rebellion and to save the most important person in her life. She meets new friends, and makes the most difficult decisions, even the doctor cannot fathom. How far will Clara go to save the Doctor? Will she be on the edge of sanity?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! As you all know, the doctor was hell bent on saving Clara and would die to let her live in season 9 of Doctor Who. I was inspired by their promise for each other, and wrote this story as Clara saving the doctor and how far she will go to keep her promise. Other than Clara and the Doctor, the characters you'll meet are my original character I made. I do not own rights nor anything by Doctor Who or the BBC (but hey, a girl can dream!) I hope you all enjoy! follow me on twitter: @clarasaucewald and tumblr: oswaldli-souffez.tumblr.com. Cheers!

Prologue-  
It was necessary for Corey 57 to hold the tray in her right hand at a 90 degree angle, and her posture to be straight and sharp, if she wanted to avoid the maids to prosecute her again. With practice, walking with pristine posture was not a big deal, she practiced a third of her life to act as a servant. The clicking of her heels echoed the narrow corridors, and at each door was a guard equipped with weapons and ready to fire. The guards knew Corey 57 ever since she was a young child, before she earned her scars, but with the late treason cases and riots breaking out around the ship, the guards have no one to trust but themselves.  
She halted at the end of the hallway, pressing her palm lightly on the scanner, and with a loud buzz and hissing, the door rose up. The empress was at her seat, shoulders slugged to one side of the large chair, and her leg hanging from the arm rest. She picked her long, purple nails with her signature knife, whom she named Dehlila, and flicked it to the bugged insect kneeling in front of her. From the looks of it, the insect hasn’t slept in days, and was on the verge of tears.  
“Look Freddy, I don’t want to cause any harm. It is not in the Corey name to hurt your kind.” She said slyly. Corey 57 laid the tray of tea and Jammie Dogders on the post beside the chair, and stood with her eyes forward like she always has.  
“Anything else, Miss Empress?” Corey showed little emotion.  
“No darling that is all, but do stay after I’m done with this bugger.” She got out of her chair and motion to the guards to scramble the poor alien to his feet.  
With the low light, the Empress’ features showed from the dark. She had a light purple complexion, and symmetrical scars right by her eyes, and a design through the middle of her head. She was the most stunning Empress that ran the Daxar system, and one of the most cutthroat as well.  
“We saw you with the doctor and his assistant Clara Oswald last Thursday. You sold them an umbrella from your garbage store. We have two options here Fred, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to pick it out for you.” She said in a low, killing voice.  
This did not scare Corey 57. For she still saw her as her aunt whom brought her to see the meteor shower when she was young, and the aunt who taught her how to fight during the rebellion. All she saw was her aunt doing her job, but it was her job that frightened Corey the most.  
Fred shut his eyes tight, and lifted his neck as so Dehlila didn’t spare through his sweaty insect skin.  
“I-I saw t-them by the che-ck in this morning, Empress. T-the doctor his here with his companion m’am. I would be eternally in y-your debt if y-you spare my l-life m’am.” His gurgly voice cried. The Empress looked at her favored blade, and showed a slight grin.  
“Hmm, I won’t kill you; now.” She offered. “You got three days to locate them, and draw them here so I may resolve my business with the Doctor and Miss Oswald.”  
She walked back to her chair, and with the slightest touch picked up her black, leather glove which slid on smoothly on her right hand. With a few movements of her fingers the glove began to glow a menacing green color, and with a fast punch her hand was inside Fred. He yelped in pain as red tears streamed down his face. The Empress raised her fist up, and with her fist Fred’s feet rose from the ground. Corey tried to bring herself to look away, but in a trance, she stared at the suffering alien with great sorrow. The Empress pulled her hand back, and the glowing faded away. With a thump the guards dropped him on the floor, as he searched his body for any enter wounds, but was found with a burnt whole in the middle of his raggedy clothes.  
“I put a miniature black hole bomb in your heart, so that if you do not have what I want, or you decide to run away or plot against my, your body will turn inside to nothing faster than you can say my name. If you tell anyone about this the bomb will set and will take not only you, but the people within two miles of your range. Are we clear?” She echoed her voice into the tall ceilings of her room.  
The incest nodded worryingly, and stumbled out the door.  
Satisfied, the Empress calmly walked back to her throne and resumed to pick her nails with her knife.  
“Fred, you know he has 17 children, right Lansa?” Corey 57 finally looked down to the tray.  
“Oh yes I do Corey. But I must do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” The Empress rose from her seat emotionless, and drank her tea. She laid it down on the tray and look to her niece. The Empress saw something unusual in her eyes. Something disturbed. She caressed her cheek, and lightly patted it.  
“Don’t worry Corey, once you get the throne you can do this as much as you like.” She said with a wicked smile as she laid the cookie with a heart in the middle, on the center of her tongue. She walked away into her chamber with the two guards, leaving Corey 57 stunned.  
She didn’t want this. She didn’t want this at all.


	2. Well Deserved Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you all enjoyed the prologue. I know there wasn't that much of twelveclara, but I felt the prologue helped set up this story. I promise you this time there will be more twelveclara in this chapter than you can ever dream of (I hope!) I'm posting this really early because tomorrow I'm going away and won't be back for a few days, and I didn't want to leave you guys without any twelveclara! So I hope you all enjoy! (follow me on twitter: @clarasaucewald and tumblr: Oswaldli-souffez.tumblr.com) Cheers!

Once the Tardis faded into an appearance on a ship or a new planet, its entrance was accompanied by a screeching and wheezing sound. Clara liked to think of it as their entrance music, as the batman and robin theme, or Gilligan’s Island theme. After all, you must need a killer soundtrack to an adventurous scene. Ever since the doctor mistakenly took Clara to a desert island where they had to survive three weeks with gremlin people who had bad feet aroma, Clara held it up to the doctor to make up their time there.  
“Here we are, Corey’s Landing. The top rated, and fanciest resort ship in this system. Known for the best gambling sites, booze, spas, and partying in the entire galaxy; as it says on the pamphlet.” The doctor offered his hand out to Clara still inside the Tardis, he looked around. It was a compact quarter, with boxes stacked to the sky, and hampers filled with towels. The chlorine burned the doctor’s nose with a slight touch, it was humid to be in his black tailored suit and his white buttoned up shirt to his neck. He loosened the collar a bit, and helped Clara down to the floor beside him.  
“It’s a bit tight, eh?” Clara sighed as she was greeted with a wave of humidity. She frocked her dress down, and threw her purse around her shoulder. “Perhaps we landed back in a storage room?”  
“Perhaps so. I haven’t been here yet. Always wanted to try it. Maybe win myself some gifts like yo-yos or new guitar stickers.” The doctor pulled out his pamphlet from his pocket and unraveled the three folded sheet, trying to find where they were exactly are. Clara looked up at the doctor in disappointment.  
“What do you mean, you haven’t been here before? What if we landed back on the same planet as the people with the long necks?”  
The doctor looked down at the cross petite teacher.  
“I don’t know. It’ll be an adventure for the both of us then.” He pushed the pamphlet back into his pocket, and took her hand and pushed the door open.  
A bright light caused both of them to squint, and cover with one arm. The stepped forward, and down themselves in a tropical paradise. A waterfall with crystal blue water falling down at least 12 feet, a large swimming pool holding a diverse amount of aliens and people, marble and polished floors with luxurious light yellow resting beds. Glass ceiling, revealing the blazing orange and red flared Garigant star which the ship orbited around, and a series of diverse plants and trees. Children splashed down as they twirled around the water slide, and people chatting among themselves. This was unsettling for both the travelers, being first greeted with something more relaxing and peaceful instead of explosions or menacing aliens. Soon they forgot what it was like to even be chased or getting shot at.  
“Doctor, are you sure we’re at the right place?” Still bewildered with the beauty and tranquility, Clara caressed his arm and accepted what was in front of her.  
“I think so, why Clara do you not like it? Because I’m not sure if I can refund us these tickets-“  
“No, doctor. I love it.” She looked up at the man. And the doctor could swore, he hasn’t seen her this pure or innocent since the first time he saw her at her door.  
“Then I guess we can get a move on,” The doctor offered his hand as he always has, “Miss Oswald, care to join?”  
The Doctor and Clara were walking aimlessly lost for a good two hours, until they finally found themselves in the grand registration room.  
“Um, doctor, I think we may be a bit underdressed.” Clara whispered as she walked beside him with her arm locked in his.  
“How so?”  
“Well first off, I am in a full on suit. Second of all, lots of people have bags and luggage and what we have is a purse, a sonic, some chap stick in my right pocket and a cheap umbrella you fished out.”  
“Oh don’t be silly Clara, I’ve well over prepared.”  
“Yeah? With what?”  
They waited at the desk for a receptionist with the pamphlet in hand and two tickets for each of them. The doctor dived his hand into his inner coat pocket, and reveled a silver windup spinosaurus figure in front of Clara. Her eyebrows lifted at the doctor with disappointment.  
“Thank you, doctor.” She sighed.  
They were greeted with an over bubbly purple lady with a flight attendant hat, and three scars on her chin on each side.  
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, to Corey’s Landing casino ship resort! I am Corey 5751, how may I be at your attendance?”  
The pair of them blinked to the purple alien with stunned expression.  
“I’m sorry, but what did you call-“  
“Yes that’s us, I’m the Mr. and she is the Mrs.,” the doctor nudged to Clara below the counter. “That is us, how did you know about us?”  
“Our welcome scanner by the door scans every guest and resident here for identification inside the tickets. Our Empress wants to be comfortable with everyone on board.” She stretched her smile as large as she can, revealing her pearl white teeth and bright gums. Maybe it was her teeth, but the persona of this lady gave Clara an unnerving feeling in her shoes.  
“Of, course.” The doctor cleared his throat and slid their tickets to the other side of the counter.  
“We have seasonal tickets for here.”  
With sharp movements, Corey 5751 scanned the tickets and pressed a few buttons on the screen.  
“Of course, I am happy to reform you that you’ll be staying in the Washington suite, close by the poolside and our five star restaurants.” Corey 5751 slid back their tickets without breaking eye contact with the doctor.  
“Great we’re close by the poolside, which means close by the Tardis.” Clara thought. Maybe it was the withdrawal of running or fighting, but in Clara’s sense something was wrong about this trip, it was too good to be true.  
“Amazing, thank you Corey, 575pi-1- I forgot your number.”  
“Corey 4362 will show you too your rooms, and will be happy to carry your luggage.” She gestured to the young, also light purple man who wore the same matching purple uniform, but with grey pants and stiff shoulders. He greeted both of them with the exact smile that sent Clara unnerving shivers down her spine.  
“Why do you have the same names?” the doctor asked out of habit.  
“Every employee in Corey’s landing must take the family name to work here, and given a number for identification. Born with the name and lives with carrying the name, Mr.” Corey 5751 responded.  
“What’s with all the identification? There must be thousands of Corey’s here.”  
“Five hundred thousand, three hundred and eighty one to be exact sir. Here in Corey’s landing we know everyone, and everything. And they know us.”  
“Who’s the number one Corey?”  
Corey 5751 stared at the doctor with no movement of eyes nor feeling, as if she was a robot. She seeped deep into his icy blue eyes, as if she is trying to process her existence.  
“It is classified.”  
“Doctor,” Clara softly muttered to him. “Ahem, Doctor Smith, shall we,” She softly nodded her head to the purple bell hopper. Clara sent him a vibe of uncomfortableness. Hopefully he can understand.  
“Oh yes, uh, love. Thank you, Corey 5735- you get the point.” He nodded to the receptionist, and neatly folded the tickets in his pocket beside his spinosaurus.  
They walked the long corridor to a room with three elevators. Clara looked up, the circular elevators reached up to the sky, and farther than she can see. It was a long tub, and transferred all different directions, breaking off to smaller tubes. All was light colors, the floor was marble, the walls was an off white, the ceiling that reached at least 57 feet had a large mural of the galaxy, and the stars illuminated the area with a few wall torches.  
“Elevators that go sideways?” Clara smiled to the doctor, recalling watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on Wednesday Tardis movie nights.  
“First of its kind, on the pamphlet.”  
The elevator made a light ding, and opened the door to them. Clara and the Doctor stood behind the bell hopper, who had not made a single chirp since the registration room.  
“Ahem, um doctor. I have a quick question.” Clara stood on her tippy toes as she moved closer to his ear, facing forward.  
“Mr. and Mrs. Smith, how did you get those names?”  
“I stole it from a fellow who was bragging about it last Sunday when we went to that Chinese space restaurant.” He whispered back.  
“Doctor!” Clara muttered under her breath.  
“You can’t just steal people’s tickets to these things! It’s not nice.”  
“Well Clara what did you want me to do? He was drunk and bragging about it and how he was going to take his wife to this place and he was being a snob about it too. My second option was to take you to a planet where they hold weekly rituals of naked offering, and by the name of that I would think you wouldn’t enjoy that.” He bantered back.  
Clara huffed. He was right about his second option. Naked offering? Just by the sound Clara can picture the amount of embarrassment she would take when she got back to Coach Hill.  
“Well, did you offer the man something, at least?”  
“I offered to buy him another drink. And a free coupon to Dave and Busters.”  
Once they got to the rooms, Clara was sold she was in paradise. The floors where polished as bright, and the room was about the size of her whole apartment. Curtains made with the softest silk, or whatever fabric it might be, and the décor felt like she was in ancient Greece with the marble beams and design. The bathroom contained of two sinks, golden, a large shower and an in floor hot tub. She lied her back onto the bed, and she felt like she was softly getting sucked into a warm marshmallow from all sides. The migraine that seemed to latch on her head (given by yours truly, the Doctor and his ongoing guitar riffs), and the distant memories of Courtney Woods throwing paper balls at a fellow student, along with the ruckus of Coach Hill school seeped into the bed. Her chest felt lighter, and nothing can ruin this moment for her. This was well deserved.  
“Bit too white. Hurts my eyes with all the whiteness, they need to turn it down.” The doctor huffed. “What do you think Clara?” The doctor sprang open the curtains, and revealed the whole resort below them. He saw the pool, the casino, dining rooms, even an observation room. Not too shabby in the doctor’s opinion. Although he wasn’t a big fan of Greek influence, the room was decent and was in touch with the theme.  
‘Nice service, nice room, good size pool. Perfect in the human’s description of resort, right Clara?”  
He turned around, and saw her tiny head pop up from the bed, her hair was a bit messy from the sheets, but she was gleaming.  
“Doctor this is amazing!” Clara cried with her hands and feet in the air. It was a while for her since she last remembered when she slept in a good bed. She rolled around in the sheets, she was warm all over.  
The doctor smiled at her, and offered his hand, getting her on her feet. She extended her hands to his neck and brought him down tightly against her.  
“Thank you doctor.” She muttered against his cheek, feeling her hand brush in his hair. The doctor wasn’t use to the hugs, still. But he made progress. He wrapped his hands around her body, soft. They’ve been practicing physical affection for quite some time. Ever since Christmas the doctor grew more comfortable being around and touching Clara. First it was the hands. Caressing her thumb and her knuckles, then moved on to her cheeks, caressing and holding. They haven’t gotten fond of hugging yet, but the doctor made sure he put that has his number one priority to learn to accept hugs.  
Reading body language was the most difficult for him. As caring and slowly Clara tried to show her expression with her movements, it would frustrate her in sparing moments. Once Clara burned her hand while cooking pancakes for the doctor, but he thought it was that she was showing affection for her arm. When Clara was either happy or cross is what the doctor knew most. Her eyes would light up, and her skin became lighter. Her smile would widen, and her evident dimples would increase. Clara would stand straighter up, positioning her head up taller. Her nose would wrinkle in a way, the doctor cannot describe. She would become full of light and energy, seeing her joyful made the doctor joyful inside, masked behind his Scottish eyebrows. Yes, when Clara is happy; that is his favorite moment.  
“By the way, Clara. I have something for you.” The doctor moved away from her embrace, and reached into his pocket to shell out 6 or 7 bills Clara never seen before, and laid them in her palm.  
“There’s going to be a ball tonight, all the guests are invited. I was wondering, maybe after you had a look around the resort you might want to, attend. This ball, with me.” The doctor shuffled his feel and smiled down at the bright Clara.  
“Doctor are you asking me on a date?” She chuckled.  
“If you want to put it that way, yes. My treat. Go buy yourself something nice to wear, go to the spa, fight a knight-do whatever you need to do. And I will meet you there Miss Oswald at the ball.” The doctor grinned as he slowly moved Clara out the door.  
“Wait doctor, I know what you’re doing.” Clara stopped him with her teacher voice she often used when she knows he’s lying. Clara looked up and down at him.  
“You’re being too nice.”  
“Yes I am.”  
“Very nice.” Clara slyly inspected.  
“Indeed.”  
“Nice enough to let me buy whatever I want and invite me to a dance.”  
“Mhm.”  
“You’re trying to get rid of me.”  
“What? Of course not! Clara why would I ever do that to you?” The doctor raised his voice high. By the grace of God’s hand, that man was a terrible liar.  
“Then what are you doing that doesn’t involve me?”  
“I am asking a very young, and beautiful school teacher to a dance, and I want her to treat herself because she deserves it.” The doctor admitted. Clara almost blushed, almost. She kept her stern eye, and looked at him straight in the eye. Surprisingly, he wasn’t lying about that. Clara moved closer to the door.  
“Then what will you do when I’m off?”  
“I’ll be getting ready as well. And maybe have a look at the space aquarium. They’ve added a new spider crab that I supposedly haven’t seen.” The doctor put his hands in his pockets. Although her interrogation was killing him and he couldn’t wait for her to go off, he grinned his teeth to keep his inner peace. Clara smiled and opened the door.  
“One more,” She peered her head inside the room.  
“Where did you get this money?”  
“Told you. The drunk bloke who bragged got his money stolen as well.”  
Clara smiled. Classic him. Classic doctor.  
“Be back here by 7, Clara.” The doctor watched her walk confidently through the hallway, and Clara watched him if he made any sudden moves to sprint off somewhere. But for one of the first time, the doctor kept the truth.


	3. Magnolia flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry this took a while, but I assure you with the many nights of having writers block, I'm proud to finally publish it. I hope you all enjoy! (follow me on twitter: @clarasaucewald and on tumblr: oswaldli-souffez.tumblr.com)

The Doctor treating Clara with a gift like this was unheard of in Clara’s mind. She recalled the first time the Doctor brought her to a new planet, the Rings of Akhaten. How the alien sun felt on her eyelids, the drift of air flowing pass her, and the space of the infinity right in front of her; she remembered it all. She began to think herself spoiled. Having a “friend” (she was not sure of what to call him now) who’s an alien with a time and space machine and adventures everywhere imaginable, and to be treated like this; she didn’t deserve all of this in her perspective. But maybe she was owed.  
Clara strutted through the large shopping area, similar to the Glasgow Mall she visited once by mistake. Everything was vast and crowded with different species and people. On her left she saw a large figured. A ram-headed seller who displayed beads and jewelry. On her right a tiny mouse with oversized glasses, selling gadgets and new merchandise she had never seen. She spotted a small figure of a clockwork squirrel with shades on. Clara chuckled to herself. Maybe the Doctor would like that. Thought Clara. She pondered about buying it, until figuring that it will be his new toy to annoy her in the Tardis. And so that idea died.   
Clara enjoyed being amongst the diverse. Intertwined with the living. She breathed the galactic air and exhaled wonders. Even amongst aliens, she learned wonders she might have never knew about.   
She was almost close to buy herself a sphere laptop, thinking it might come to good use for her paperwork and tests on Earth, until something more hostile behind her grabbed her attention. People muttered and turned around to find a large mass of purple workers marching in rows with tape on their mouths, and flowers substituting where their name tags should be. Clara turned around, and dropped the sphere.  
“What’s going on?’ She asked to the nearest person around her.  
“It’s another of those riots that goes on. I don’t think those Corey people understand that they’ll just get sent back to the chambers.” A bystander bitterly scoffed. Clara looked again. The protestors were not moving, nor inflicted any harsh movements or words. Their face was still as a stone statue, and their eyes had no emotion, a vast ball of color. It was a peaceful protest. But the tear gas and the wailing cry of a red fire didn’t make it so. Perhaps Clara was at the wrong place at the wrong time. She watched as each protestor was shoved and pushed to a large black truck that seemed to have no windows, or lights inside. Her heart sank. These were peaceful people. They didn’t hurt anyone, nor used any force but their symbolism. Bystanders were yelling and staring at each protestor.  
“Um, I’m new here, but what’s going on?” She tapped on a guard’s shoulder. He was built and equipped with full gear and mask.  
“This is just a peaceful removal of the riot that sparked today. Please don’t be alarmed this has sparked up often within this month?”  
“Peaceful removal?” Clara scoffed.  
“Those people meant no harm, they did no harm and you treated them like cattle!”   
The guard turned around, and looked down at her. Clara wasn’t afraid of tall people, (living example, the Doctor. Without her heels she’s only at his lower chest.) But this man had an equipped gun, ready in use. He had a stern grin and a menacing smirk at the end of his lips.  
“There is nothing to fear ma’am, the gas was used to calm the protestors, before we took them away. I suggest you and the other bystanders move along and have a nice day.”  
Quite odd. Clara won’t just let this protest pass as this. The way they handled it seemed to be, sketchy. But Clara would rather stay alive and move on instead of getting trampled by the large beast.  
“Of course…have a, nice day sir.” Clara looked down and continued to walk. She would not let this pass.  
Clara tried a day spa called the Galati Stones. She liked how the named sounded in her mouth. The spa walls and ceiling was egg shell white, and the floor was paved grey stones. The air was a bit chilly, but entered her nose and refreshed her lungs. Soothing music played around the room, and the sound of a soft waterfall came behind the front desk.  
The tickets the Doctor stole included a spa coupon, in which Clara began to wonder how wealthy this man was. Included with a deep fish massage and a sun kissed manicure and pedicure, Clara was treated with what it seemed royalty. She relaxed as she saw others being treated with peculiar techniques of massages (one consisted of the masseur lighting her hands to turquoise blue flames, and reminded Clara of the Karate Kid.) She waited for the girl to get her toes down, and splashed her feet with the hot water. Leaves and beads tickled between her toes, and was supposed to eliminate any impurities of her heels. The last time Clara had this treatment was for one of her co-workers wedding. She remembered how the mud mask made a plaster of her face and her skin was smooth for the next three days.  
Suddenly a young girl, no more at the age of 17, came along and sat in front of Clara with materials she had never seen before.  
“Hello, my name is Corey 57 and I’ll be taking care of your manicure and pedicure today.” She softly said, almost too soft Clara couldn’t hear her. Clara smiled to her.  
“Hello.” Clara greeted with her high voice.  
“Have you been here before?” Corey 57 asked as she set her area and turned off the water.  
“No. This is actually my first time I’ve gotten a spa treatment in outer space, it’s quite exciting.” Clara gave a dry laugh, but soon ended it when she saw that Corey wasn’t laughing. Corey 57 reached for her left foot, and her sleeved revealed a scarred wrist, bruise and had one main scar that was right on top of a vessel. Clara had seen her before. She pondered. In silence she studied the young girl’s face. Light purple skin, familiar scars on both sides by the eyes, but her eyes was different from the other workers. She wasn’t perky or overly joyful where her wrinkles would come out and frighten Clara. This one seemed, tired. Drained out like a battery on low percent. And yet this girl seemed tired, but seemed like an outsider. And that was when Clara remembered.  
“Um, I have a question for you, Corey.” Clara cleared her throat and broke the silence.  
“There was a, thing that happened earlier when I was walking here. There was these people, your people. And they seemed to be-protesting.”   
Cory 57 stopped. She had no voice and no movement.  
“What’s happening? Everything here seems, hidden up. Like they’re trying to cover up something.”  
Corey still did not speak. But after a while she talked.   
“I cannot tell you, miss. I am only programmed to serve the costumer and ask question fit for the environment.”   
Programmed? Clara played with that word in her mind.  
“Okay. Then I demand you to tell me what is happening as a costumer.”   
Corey looked to her watch, and to the right corner of the ceiling. They’re watching.  
“There’s a revolution happening here in Corey’s Landing, and the company insists to not let the costumer’s know.” Corey whispered.  
Clara’s eyes widened, maybe the Doctor did have a secret from Clara. Perhaps the Doctor brought her here just to witness this revolution. After all, god knows what he might be doing now.   
“Why? Why is there a revolution happening?”  
Corey looked up, and tilted her head.  
“Do you know the story of the Dorthraxi?”   
Clara shook her head.  
Corey continued to paint Clara’s toes. It was perfectly squared and smooth. But her tiny feet was challenging to not get any nail polish on her skin.  
“My people and I were freed 200 years ago from the Dorthraxi empowerment which ran this ship. My aunt,” Corey corrected herself. “Our Empress freed us from the Dorthraxi enslavement. To build our government and economy, she made this ship into an inter-solar system resort, at least the top three levels.”  
“What do you mean, the top three levels?”   
“This ship has 9 levels. Twice as long as the orient express, and larger than three Titanic ships. The resort is 3 levels. The rest is made up of the low class, the beggars, and then the Failed. The Failed takes up three levels, the beggars were one, and the low class had two levels.   
“What’s the Failed?”  
“Each worker is programmed here from a young age to work and to only think about our society. We are not meant to have other feelings than serving the costumers or cannot think about goals or dreams other than this. The retired is the people who were a failed programmer and were relived of working here. They cannot contribute to our society because they are a burden to us. And so she left them there for themselves. That’s why the revolution started. They developed feelings that they were being segregated and wanted to change the resort.”  
“But that’s not fair. What if they need help or, medicine to survive?” Clara raised her voice. Corey gave a sharp look to her, and shushed her fiercely.  
“They can hear you. They’re always watching. You mustn’t speak about the retired. The costumers must not know about them.”  
Clara began to have an uneasy feeling in her stomach. They can hear you. They’re always watching. Just two sentences that makes the hairs of Clara’s neck stand up.  
“So, are you a failed programmer? I saw you at revolution. You were helping them escape from the police.”  
Corey shifted her eyes.  
“Yes. But my aunt does not know that.”  
Clara felt remorse for this young girl. Her people were brainwashed by their own, and she is torn to help them, or serve her aunt. This young girl had potential. Clara can picture her changing the world, or seeing new horizons and walk different worlds, and yet she is conformed to sit at this resort for her life. Clara can see the potential in children, and Clara can feel the bursting potential inside this young girl.  
“I love my aunt. She took me in when my parents fell during the war. She helped me get a job, looks at me as her own daughter, and does what’s best for her people. We are all of her children, she gave us our names.” Corey softly said. “Why do I go against her?”  
“Corey, listen to me. What your aunt is doing, it’s not enslavement, its manipulation. She manipulates your people’s minds, changes them. She’s even manipulating you. It’s a dystopia. What you’re doing, is freeing people from your aunt’s rule. There’s nothing wrong with going against your aunt.”  
“In my society it is.”  
Clara sat in silence. She was taken back by this added information. She looked down at her toes. She was an exceptional artist. Her toes were painted a soft blue, and small white flowers were decorated with a touch on each toe. Clara knew this was her relaxation from running and saving the world, but what is a vacation without a little bit of action?  
“Corey, I want to help you and your people.” She softly whispered to her.   
She looked up with her large hazel eyes, almost as big as Clara’s.   
“You what?”  
“Listen, it’s supposed to by my vacation with me and my…husband.” Clara muttered that last part. Calling the Doctor her husband rang a question mark in her head. She left a note to never do that again.  
“But what we do for a living is help people, it’s kind of our job. Except we don’t get paid and we somewhat enjoy it. If I can get him to come and help you, it’ll be a big point for the revolution.”  
“You, can’t help me.” Corey was star struck.  
“Please, let me help you, Corey. For the people’s sake.”  
"What about my aunt if she hears a guest has taken part of this revolution?"  
"To hell with your aunt. She can't conform her guest. And if she can she'd be a pretty screwed up resort owner."  
Corey chuckled to her statement. She considered the idea of extra help, perhaps this was a sign. Perhaps this revolution was not a shot at their own feet.  
“I’m going to be serving at the Couple’s nebula ball tonight. If we can we might protest there, since most of the guests will be there, get more recognition to our fight. If you and your husband can come, we can tell you more on how to help us.” Corey whispered as she began to pack her materials. She slipped out a crumpled tissue paper, and the pen bled through. Corey helped Clara out of the chair, and shook her hand with the tissue paper.  
“Please, do not draw any attention to the employees about this. Not only were they programmed to serve this resort, but they can detect a rogue guest or worker. Safe travels, Miss Clara.” Corey let go of her hand, and bowed. With little to no noise in her footsteps, Corey shuffled to the back door in which she came from.   
Clara finally looked at the tissue paper once she was out of the spa. In capital letters the note read with a drawing of a magnolia flower:  
THE PEOPLE WILL REJOICE AGAIN. TO BE FREE IS TO LIVE.


	4. Couple's Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm sorry this took longer than before, but I thought about this and revised it many times for it to be the best, so I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to leave Kudos, and if you have any feedback or questions ask me on my twitter: clarasaucewald or my tumblr: oswaldli-souffez.tumblr.com. (I use twitter more and I also run a Clara Oswald Support Group: Oswald_support. feel free to follow or ask questions on either accounts!) Enjoy lovelies! - Lauryn

The Doctor leaned against the marble column gazing at his time watch. Five minutes to 7 pm. He stood against the column while watching the other couples enter the ball room in magnificent gowns and suits, again, waiting for Clara. He loosened the collar which was strangling him and slowly exhaled hot air. The Doctor wasn’t one to “enjoy” relaxation. He did try it, numerous times while waiting for Clara to be done with her papers, yet he can never find himself totally relaxed. In this body he must be always doing something or he’ll get bored. Fiddle with his buttons, toy around with his yo-yo, go on google in his sonic shades and look at the Wikipedia page of rope. Something.  
While Clara went off getting ready with whatever she needed to do, the doctor decided to take a walk around the resort; understanding the surroundings he was in. It was all very lively. Similar to London, except more sanitary, in his opinion. He found an indoor waterpark with 20 feet tunnel slides that twirled around each other. He spotted an arcade, a golf course, a club for both juniors and adults, a butterfly garden, theaters for live performances, even a fencing club; which he made a note to take Clara to. He visited the planetarium, it was all the same to him. Until he got into a heated conservation with the tour guide about the history of the blue crystal star, shocking to him the tour guide was baffled when he spoke up against his word in front of 30 people, he wondered why.  
He dialed his phone again, and pushed it against his cheek.  
“Hi, this is Clara Oswald. I’m probably in the Tube or in outer space. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!”  
“Clara, it’s me. You told me to meet you in front of the ball room but I don’t see you. If you’re lost its right by…” The Doctor looked forward, and saw a young elegant woman walk to him. Dressed in a blue sheath dress which fit her petite and perfect body structure, and pearl earrings dazzled her ears. Her makeup seemed professionally done, and her skin was vibrant. She stopped five feet away from him, and straightened her posture with her chin up. She illuminated like a Goddess, her own lighting. The doctor looked closer at the young girl, it was Clara Oswald.  
Quickly he hung up his phone and stuffed it into his coat pocket, and moved in closer to her. He questioned himself if it was really her, but with her big doe eyes which made his heart twirl, the doctor knew it was her. She sighed.  
“How do I look?” She looked down and smoothed her dress down. The doctor felt awkward, he stumbled in his brain for words.  
“You, uh.” He blinked to come back to reality. “You’re taller.”  
“Yes I am.” Clara giggled. She flipped her dress over, it was slit by the side of her leg. “Heels.” Clara looked up and down at the Doctor. He wore a red velvet jacket, similar to his black one with red lining inside, but this jacket was more fit for his physique. It was a new one, the only reason why Clara knew it was new was because of the peeping tag behind his neck. He wore a black vest, white collared shirt, dress pants and his signature black boots, which Clara swore to get him a new one. Clara noticed he got a haircut. Still fluffy on top but the sides are trimmed and gelled back. Clara found the new suit made him look, enchanting and modern, rather than his pajama pants and black hoodie.  
The Doctor put his hand intertwined with his, giving him flashbacks to the Orient Express.  
“Good. So every time I look at you now my neck won’t hurt from bending down.” He joked.  
‘Oh shut up, you.” Clara laughed to his response, and walked to the door. She didn’t realize the doctor’s eyes were still fixed on her. She seemed to be on a look out for someone, looking back and all around. The Doctor didn’t know why nor paid close attention why. He only knew that Clara made him speechless.  
They entered the ballroom together, went by “Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” They were quickly greeted by a crowd of wealthy people who swayed in the middle of the room, while servers with white coats held trays up high with colorful drinks and finger food. Frank Sinatra took hold of the room, made the guest sway and chatter with life. In the middle of the room with the high ceiling was a large chandelier, 7,000 beads of diamonds. The room was filed with gold and rich colors. Clara was filled with awe, and her eyes widened with the brightness of the ballroom, she almost forgot who she was, or what she was doing. The Doctor shifted sideways along with the people who stood and watched the guests dance. Clara spun around.  
“Doctor, what are you doing?” Clara whispered as he let go of Clara’s hand.  
“You. This is your holiday, go enjoy it.”  
“Yeah, but what about you? You brought me here.”  
“I’m not a dancer type.” He crossed his arms and lifted his eyebrows. Clara scoffed, and looked around.  
“Go. Do what young people do and dance. I’ll be fine here.” He picked up a passing scotch from a server, and took a sip. It burned his throat as it went down, and felt his chest get heavy. He watched as Clara take two steps front, and watched the passing dancers.  
“Hello.” A deep rich voice greeted behind Clara, which frightened her a bit. She turned around to meet a tall, young officer, wearing a uniform.  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled. He had bright blue eyes, and a prince smile. He tipped his hat, and revealed his gelled back black hair. Clara gave a small smile, but soon faded as she looked right over his shoulder and saw the doctor furiously walk toward him, with cross eyebrows and a stern mouth.  
“Excuse me, solider boy. She’s with me.”  
The officer looked back at him baffled.  
“I’m sorry, I was just going to ask her to dance.”  
The doctor pushed his drink into the officer’s chest, and padded him on the shoulder.  
“Yea, nope. That’s not going to work sonny. Why don’t you take that drink and greet that other lady there, and pop off.” He pointed to an older lady who gave the officer a fruity eye. The doctor gave a fake smile to the officer and pushed him towards the old lady, and takes a hold of Clara’s hand. He toddled his fingers to the young confused officer, and lead Clara into the ballroom.  
“Well, so much for not a dancing type, eh?” Clara smiled. She was pushed closely to his body for a second, getting a strong smell of his cologne from his suit. He shifted away from her, keeping space between them.  
“Yeah, and I’m still not.” The doctor scoffed as he observed the others dancing along with him. He studied the way the males held onto their partners. A firm hand on their lower back, confident shoulders, and their hand intertwined with their partners on their chest. They moved softly from side to side with the soft melody of the song playing in the background. The doctor tried to follow the example, but couldn’t even touch her back. Softly, he touched his thumb on the mid center of her back, and lightly held onto her hand.  
“Doctor, what are you doing?” Clara chuckled and looked up at him.  
“I’m trying to blend in.”  
“Blend in what?”  
“I’m trying to look like I’m dancing. You know, Clara I’m not a real dancer in this body. Perhaps in the others, but not in this one.”  
Clara smiled up at him. Still, the doctor hasn’t figured that look out. Perhaps it’s the way she tilts her head, how her eyes illuminate browns and black, her smile not being forced, but genuine. How she looked at him. He has no clue why she looks at him as so.  
“You daft old man.” Clara smiled, and placed his hand on her lower back, pulling her in closer. She intertwined her fingers with his, and laid it on his heart (one of his hearts.) She closed the space between them shortly, and leaned into him. The Doctor and smell her sweet perfume, and feel her energy of her body right onto his. He shifted his hand, and relaxed it on her back perfectly; as if it was the missing puzzle piece. They softly swayed to the music, and the doctor kept his eyes to her. Clara rested her head against his chest, hearing how fast his heart beat. She felt his heat when he exhaled, and smelt the distant smell of scotch in his breath. They stayed like this for five songs.  
“Clara?”  
“Yes Doctor?” she softly replied back  
“Do you like this?”  
“Like what?”  
“This holiday, are you happy with it?”  
That’s odd. The Doctor never asked her on how she enjoyed her trips with him, until now.  
“Of course Doctor. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“Just checking. Thought it might be different to go somewhere relaxing. Perhaps you might have liked to go camping at the artic, but I figured to try this first.”  
“Camping in the Artic? Doctor, you’ve known me for 4 years now, do you even know what I like?”  
“Of course I do!” the Doctor huffed. “Didn’t you enjoy that time we camped in the dinosaur age? Or that time we camped with the native tribe on the dwarf planet?”  
“Doctor, do you even remember what happened on the dwarf planet?”  
“Okay, that was one time.” The doctor chuckled. “I wanted you to come with me and experience a native tribal feast to celebrate not getting eaten by a Bull Worm. I just didn’t know that we were the main course.”  
“Really Doctor? You didn’t even question when they gave us that garlic necklace and lathered us in oil? Doctor, it took me three hours to get the leaves and smell out of my hair after that!”  
“It was common to be offered seasoning necklaces to show gratitude and respect back in that time.” The Doctor justified himself which made Clara even laugh more.  
“So then it’s a normal day for you to be bathed in seasoning and spices.” Clara joked. The Doctor rolled his eyes. It’s just not unordinary for him.  
“Oh, Clara Oswald. How can I survive without you?”  
Clara felt the Doctor lay his cheek on the top of her head. It was a delicate touch, as they swayed together in the low tempo. Clara reminisced about their late adventures. So many different planets, different people. Different time eras; it was hard to name them all. But if you were to ask Clara to tell one story about their adventures, she would tell you this: One day Clara was under pressure after work. She was flooded with classwork, homework, essays, and test. So the Doctor takes her to the museum of future space and art. She remembers this one 3D painting of Jupiter. It was so wide, it took up the whole wall (30 feet of it) and they just sat down, with some apple slices and soda, and the Doctor told her about the whole history of how Jupiter was born. Clara remembered how much passion and knowledge was in his voice. He would use his hands to talk, and explain the formation of the planet and to emphasis his words. His eyes would light up, and his eyebrows seemed to have its own motion. Clara didn’t really pay attention, to be honest, she didn’t even listen to what he said because of his grand vocab and the speed of his Scottish voice. But she remembered his tone. God she loved when he got passionate. She remembered the feeling of having him there, and how he can take the stress of life away from her; not even knowing it. That’s all she needed, a close friend to listen to, and to talk about everything else, other than life. They stayed there the whole day, until she got back into the Tardis and actually graded all of the work.  
“Doctor. I don’t know if I say it much. But thank you.”  
The Doctor felt a change of heart. Why does she have to say it? He wasn’t sarcastic with her gratefulness, no. He was grateful to have someone like Clara to travel with. Clara lifted her head from his chest, and gazed into his eyes. She discovered the touches of green in his steel blue eyes. And the Doctor realized he was lost in hers. She leaned in closer to him, smelling his hint of aftershave. She felt his shallow breath brush against her skin, and softly laid her lips on his. He was still as a statue, Clara expected that. She never knew how soft his lips were. But was surprised Clara was that he didn’t pull away, or go into a hectic. He just stood there, letting Clara kiss him. His eyes were opened, and wandered around the room to see if anyone was looking. He spotted another couple kissing, and saw the motion of the man kissing his partner; hands cupped the cheeks, and leaning towards his lover.  
Clara let her lips slip away, and buried her head back into his chest. She knew it was a long shot. She often wondered what it would feel like to steal a kiss from him. Perhaps her own curiosity go in the way of the doctor’s comfort. She felt her cheeks flush, and shut her eyes to try to erase what had just happen, until the impossible happened (after all, the impossible happens like the ordinary every day in their lives). The Doctor took his hand holding Clara’s hand, and lifted up her chin to meet her eyes. "If I try this once more…maybe…" the doctor thought, and so he put his thoughts into action.  
He moved his hand up to her cheek, and lowered his head to kiss her once more. He pressed forward, and locked their lips. The room, music, and people became distant in the Doctor’s mind, as he concentrated on kissing Clara. 

He was kissing Clara.

The Doctor studied her style of kissing, just in case if they were to kiss again. She moved up and down. Her hand would play with the back of his hair, twirl it with her fingers. She left no gaps open, or patches of air. She was a light but sweet kisser, the Doctor read so in a book called “Different Types Of Kissers” once for fun. She didn’t use much tongue, which was not a problem for him. He had a revelation, all of the thoughts and ideas in his head. All the loud music and guitar riffs that constantly kept the doctor awake and at his feet faded, when he felt her kiss. All of the memories that sometimes would come back and haunt him for days, or the voices of past companions and friends that would whisper in his ear when there is silence, deceased. He discovered what made himself finally relaxed, his peaceful state of mind. It was her.  
They finally broke for air, the doctor didn’t want to. He connected his forehead with hers, and grinded his teeth. Clara felt her cheeks get heated, and smiled down to the floor. It was a moment where the experience cannot be duplicated, a let alone memory to cherish when in despair. Clara cannot process what had happen, but she felt it in her heart, and it was a moment to be stored and look back upon on days after this. She didn’t think upon what will happen an hour from now, or perhaps weeks from now. Clara didn’t think about the past in that moment, or any other thing expect the Doctor. The doctor flooded her mind like a fountain, flushing any other emotions in her body, and controlled her mind. In that spare moment they shared, foreheads connecting, and close together in their embrace. Clara knew her heart belonged here in space, with one alien to hold her hand. She heard the Doctor mutter her name, and her little paradise was shot down with reality.  
She heard the music come to a cringing halt, and people and women yelling. She looked up, and saw aggression in the crowds of people. Her eyes darted to her right, and in the corner, she saw Corey 57 standing there with wide and unsettling eyes pointing at the men stride towards them, and yelled at Clara about something. She was trying to make sense of what was happening around her, until she felt the Doctor rip from her arms, and the next thing Clara was staring at was a large guard, smashing the handle of a gun against the Doctor’s head. Her trance stopped, and all of the ruckus, commotion, and screams raced into Clara’s ears as if time caught up.  
“Doctor!” Clara heart wrenchingly cried, as she jumped to the doctor, but someone was holding her back. She swung her elbows back, not caring who was behind her, and kicked her heels off which almost took her ankle too. Her heart felt shot, as tears streamed down her eyes. Clara couldn’t hear herself speak, but she repeatedly cried over his name, as he watched the Doctor being dragged away from her. Farther and father he went. The Doctor squirmed, and a small trail of blood followed him. Clara cried as if her tears were fire, and she wanted to burn the whole ship down. The doctor looked up as he was being dragged by his collar, and all he focused on was Clara.  
She couldn’t make out what he said, but read his lips.  
“Clara, I’ll find you.” He screamed as his lungs felt they were being electrocuted. Clara became smaller and smaller as he was being dragged away. He didn’t care that his throat was suffocating, or his head throbbed and vision was scattered everywhere. He felt his own blood drip to his lips, and his ribs cracking. He tried to open his eyes more, to see if Clara wasn’t taken away, but instead she was escorted in the embrace of another worker. He couldn’t make out who it was, but all that mattered to him was that Clara didn’t have to feel what he was feeling right now.

The last thing the doctor saw, was a bloody handle of a gun, and felt his head being thrown against the hard floor, but the last thing the Doctor thought about, was Clara.


End file.
